Dysarthria
by CityofPopolac
Summary: A one shot between Quorra and an MP3 program from End of Line - a scene of intimacy from Quorra's relationship with a mute MP3 program. Please R&R. Rated M for strong sexual content.


**The MP3 program featured in this story will remain unnamed, but I know he will be identifiable. Quorra Copyright of TRON and Disney. I do not own the featured characters.**

Quorra stared at the MP3 program across from her and shifted her foot on the carpet, her great, round eyes examining his silver helmet and dark visor. Her heart always warmed when she saw the small smile that was cut into the mouthpiece. The program was looking at her through his visor, examining her Outlands suit, her gloves, and especially her eyes. They were so big and he was intrigued. Obviously something had interested her.

She scooted her foot across the carpet and began rubbing it against the bone of his ankle, her expression not changing in the slightest. The program sighed in an exhausted way, trying to distract himself. Quorra moved her foot up his leg. He sighed again, leaning back in his seat and murmuring, "Excuse me."

Quorra jumped in surprise, her foot remaining where it was. "Sorry? Oh, I mean, _I'm_ sorry." she propped her chin on her fist and looked away from him. A moment later he felt her shoe rubbing up his calf and a tickle bit his stomach, causing him to reposition uncomfortably.

"Please," he discouraged her actions, the text appearing on his visor as it was filtered through a robotic voice box in his helmet. "Don't." Quorra's large eyes snapped onto him.

"Do what?" she asked in flat innocence, nothing in her expression giving her away. "I'm not doing anything." she stared at him a moment longer and then looked to the video monitor above the bar.

The program sat patiently with his hands rested on his thighs. She was freaking him out; was she nuts or playing some game? He hated fluent programs; mute programs were so much easier to understand with their limited vocabulary. He began to get lost in his thoughts when her foot moved against his leg, stroking him again. His breath caught in his throat and he looked at her, but she seemed by her expression to be lost in space.

He leaned back in his seat with his eyes open but he was seeing absolutely nothing. His body was completely in-tune with her contact and he felt himself overheating in his suit from anxiety. She lifted her foot and set it on the piece of chair between his legs. He looked down briefly at the black shoe and then up at nothing again. "Fuck," he thought to himself and contemplated getting up. But he couldn't.

Quorra very lightly pressed the sole of her shoe to his lap and he straightened in his chair quickly, his head reeling in alarm. The pressure was well placed and he was frustrated with her courage. He crossed his arms over his chest but it didn't do much for the feeling in his stomach. Quorra glanced at him and couldn't help but smirk. She pressed her toes forward to apply more pressure and she could feel him trying to move backwards despite his lack of freeing space.

"Do you want this?" she asked him suddenly and he was quiet. Her eyes flashed.

"No," his visor synched with his response and he turned his head away. She moved her foot again and he almost keeled toward the table. "Yes," he corrected himself and stood, straightening his collar and smoothing his glowing silver and white suit jacket.

"Now I don't want it," she protested in aggravation at his indecision and did not stand. The MP3 program walked past her and slid a hand over her breast, disguising the motion as a shoulder pat. Quorra's face drained of color and she instantly stood to follow.

-

She couldn't keep her hands off of him. Mute programs were incredibly focused and their silence was, of course, a lack of distraction. As soon as he had sat down on the bed Quorra had jumped on him, separating his legs and working herself in between, her hands going immediately to the fastener at his collar. The program watched her anxiously, his chest rising and falling and his visor displaying a pattern of illuminating and dying lights. Quorra's eyes were on him as she violently pulled open his collar to expose the black nylon underneath.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked him in a passionate sigh, looking down his thin abdomen hungrily.

"You may," the program responded, his head falling to one side as he became victim to his own warmth and lust. She bit the cloth at his neck and tore it open to expose pale skin which she covered with her lips as she sat down on his lap. The pressure on him enticed the tickle in his stomach and his breaths deepened, air leaking in and out of his helmet in gasps. The hot exhales warmed her face as she nipped his throat gently, caressing it with her mouth.

His hands wandered to her knees and over the extremely tight fabric of her thighs. For a moment her palms covered the backs of his hands before she repositioned them on his shoulders, stabilizing herself. He squeezed her thighs, his fingertips digging into the thin clothe. Her mouth never left his neck; she tucked her fingers into the waistband of her leggings, pulling them over her backside and somehow kicking them off like it was nothing.

The program was fully engaged, his hands were unable to find a position they wished to remain in. Her lipping on his neck was driving him further into lust and his palms went from her hair to her shoulders, her legs, her butt. He wasn't in control at all.

Suddenly Quorra pushed her hips against his lap and he drew in a harsh inhale, moaning through his vocal box. Quorra slowed in her kiss, her eyes wide and curious, listening intently as she pulled herself forward over him again. He groaned, his stomach muscles tightening and relaxing under her. She quickly worked the rest of his jacket open and her hands lingered there, gliding over his abdomen greedily; his body was incredibly tight and she was jealous he wasn't hers completely.

She slid over him again and he pinched her thighs causing her to cry out in pain. She cupped her hands over the back of his neck and shoulder, thrusting her hips to him over and over and panting as she shook his mattress, teasing him. He was moaning continuously and his hand automatically went for his pants, but she intercepted. She held his hand in hers, riding him through his clothes until he was gasping for air and shaking.

He wanted to curse at her but he couldn't; this was pleasure as it was torment. She held his hands to the bed and began kissing down his chest, her eyes gazing intently at her captor with strong affection.

She leaned back up and kissed his neck, whispering, "I hope you like this."

The program leaned his head against hers and responded, "Of course."

She kissed the mouthpiece of his helmet and went back to his chest, trailing kisses down his sternum and stomach. He watched her as his head lolled to the side again. Her touch was intoxicating and her warm body was smooth to his. He didn't care what she did as long as she didn't stop. He rested his head to the backboard of the bed and closed his eyes.

Quorra snapped the button of his pants and slowly unzipped them, kissing his lower abdomen uncontrollably. Her attraction to him was magnetic in the sense that when they were together she could not help paying all of her attention to him; mute programs were unbelievably attractive. The way he waited for her to pleasure him gave her a strong sense of control that she undeniably took advantage of.

Her hand touched his hardened erection and he sighed and moaned at the same time, a sound of submission and begging. His body was extremely hot; programs always got warm in their excitement, and she felt her lust renewing at the contact. She ran her palm up and down his length, kissing and squeezing. The program lifted his legs and stretched them out, small protests in the form of mumbling emitting from his helmet. She slipped the tip into her mouth and stared as she pleasured him, her eyes shining from the lights outside the apartment. He moaned and his chest tightened in his bliss, his breathes degenerating into ragged huffs and coughs. She licked and sucked on him lightly; restraining herself from testing his limits for now though she longed to see him cry out.

She pleasured him until she realized how tight his body had become and she began to kiss back up his stomach. She tore more fabric from his neck to plant her lips on and the program moaned while caressing her back and sides. His palms cupped her backside greedily and then a hand slid under her stomach to her crotch, surprising her out of focus. He ran his fingers over her and groaned in dizzy lust. She shuddered audibly and felt her control melting away.

Quorra folded her arms around his neck and breathed him in. She was overcome with a feeling of familiarity despite the fact that days earlier she wouldn't have been able to recognize his scent. It was finally her turn to experience the drunk, gluttonous feeling her partner had been suffering from since they had arrived at his sector.

"Go," she was begging him softly, her stomach tight with lust. "Please, more." She was unable to control her body's movements and she was trembling. The program noticed her distress and gently lifted her, lying her down on the bed and kneeling over her. He slid her barrier off and rested her legs on the sides of his hips. Quorra's face was flush and she felt goose bumps form on her skin from his sudden dominance.  
The program ran his hand over her bare gap and her back arched out of reflex, air forced out of her lungs in a sharp moan. His body reacted to her sound and he sighed in distress, wanting to get on top of her but forcing himself to stay kneeling. He palmed over her again and slipped her button between his fingers as he went, watching her body's soft convulsions from his toying. She was undeniably beautiful and his connection to her had strengthened through their intimacy. Under his lust he felt warmth in his chest, an emotional attachment he was never programmed for.

He rubbed her with his thumb is slow circles as his breathing finally evened out. She was now the one gasping more frequently and moaning louder when he hit the correct nerve and her noises were creating periodic sloppiness as he fought to keep his hands and hips in place. Her eyes were closed for the most part but every few seconds she would open them and gaze at him, reaching for his hands. Her lover melted when she did so and he would lean into her, letting her weakly kiss his neck and shoulders before he sat back again.

He slid his hand over her again to feel her eagerness and his body tested his will again. She was open and his fingers lingered here momentarily, waiting for Quorra's reaction.

"Please," she sighed and he met her eyes which were barely open, her eyelids heavy with contentment. She reached for him and he leaned into her, cupping his hand over her crotch. She kissed his neck and mouthpiece affectionately and lifted her hips into his palm, shaking as she did so.  
"Do you want me to?" he asked her softly, his eyes examining every inch of her face. Her image was engrained into his coding but no matter how much he looked at her she still caused the thick tickle in his pit.

"Yes," she replied, her voice sounding strained in his ear. "Go slow." she laid back on the mattress and he sat up, teasing her again. He slipped two fingers into her and she sighed deeply, her muscles flexing. The program couldn't help himself as his heart rate increased, his knuckles moving in and out easily and his thumb circling her button. She used her pressure against his sides to push forward and back with him, her head turning continuously with their rhythm. Him inside her in any form was overwhelming and she could barely make out where she was or why, her passion peaking and falling over and over.

The program watched her face as he pleasured her; listening as she begged and said words and sentences that didn't streamline in any way. Her rhythm was perfect with his now and he could feel her squeezing him hard, her body closing in on a climax. He became anxious at the thought, wanting to climax with her but knowing he would get his chance.

He felt Quorra spasming and suddenly she reached for him, her hands tight when she caught hold of his shoulders. The program pressed his face to her cheek as he pushed harder and faster, waiting for her shrill moan and painful grip. When it came, it was strong and her fingernails found his skin through the fabric on his back.

She was making small sighing noises when he lifted her onto him, lying back against the headboard. She immediately began to kiss his chest, throwing one leg over his thigh and pressing her wetness to his skin. A muffled moan sounded from behind his helmet and it fed Quorra's urgency as she accidently bit his shoulder. He cried out and squeezed her thighs, pulling her closer.

She straddled the program, hovering over him as she hungrily kissed at his neck and her hands stroked up and down his chest, feeling his heat and his muscles. He lifted his hips, hoping she would give in but she remained defiant. She ran his length briefly with her hand and then lowered herself only to take his tip, killing him. She pulled off and he groaned in frustration, waiting patiently until she lowered again which she did, only to leave him. He firmly grabbed her hips and tugged her down onto him all the way, causing her to yell in pleasure and alarm.

Automatically she began to ride him, rocking her hips forward and back and preserving the feeling as long as she could before she gave in to her body. He held her sides gently then took her button between his fingers and rubbed it rhythmically, matching her pace. Quorra let her head fall back as she came down on him repeatedly, her insides wound up in pleasure again. The program watched her dizzily: the shape of her body, the way her breasts bounced, her legs spread over his. Seeing her lifting up off of his length only to engulf him again almost pressed him to his limit but he closed his eyes, focusing on their rhythm.

When he felt he was too close to waste time, he pulled out of her and laid her to the mattress, pushing in again. He held her legs in his arms as he drove in, continuing the forward and back pattern Quorra had mastered so beautifully before his interruption. She stared at him as she moaned and his heart rate quickened as he leaned his head against hers, his visor bright with rippling lights. Quorra kissed his mouthpiece once and then laid her head back down, letting it rock from side to side as her pressure rose.

As he neared climax he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, pushing up into her over and over. He came deep inside of her, his body hot and shaking, his breath escaping in defeated and desperate gasps. Quorra cried out at the feeling of being filled and she squeezed the program tight, her own breaths choked with excitement.

The program lay back onto the bed and pulled out, dripping onto the covers. Quorra was catching her breath, her head firmly tucked between his jaw and shoulder. He tugged a blanket over them and hugged her tight. "I love you," he heard her whisper.


End file.
